


Without You.

by spaceromantic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jスン, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, One Shot, Rife With Emotional Pain, Sex, jjseung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceromantic/pseuds/spaceromantic
Summary: The engagement ring that sits pretty on her marriage hand is the beginning of the end.Written as a one shot for a friend, @rainlikestars on twitter, because I like death and dying.





	

The engagement ring that sits pretty on her marriage hand is the beginning of the end. It's too bright, the stone obnoxiously big against the backdrop of her delicate finger. It screams expensive, hints at a wedding equally as extravagant. 

Lee Seung Gil stares at the ring without uttering a word. He's speechless but not by choice, his tongue feels like a lead weight in his mouth too heavy for him to lift on his own. 

"We're planning on marrying in the fall," Isabella cajoles, effervescent with happiness, the blushing bride to be. She lights up the room with her presence a beacon that radiates laughter, warmth. 

Seung Gil is the opposite, closed off and tight lipped. His presence is comparable to two of the same poles on a magnet repelling one another. He isn't friendly, he's never been. Sociable? Hardly ever unless his manager demands it of him in the name of 'keeping up appearances' with the press.

How he finds himself sitting with JJ's fiancée is an entirely different matter to begin with. First and foremost because it's her who finds him, invites herself over to his table at a nondescript cafe and greets him as if they know each other at a much deeper level than the superficial hellos they exchanged during the Grand Prix Final.

"That's nice," Seung Gil speaks at her, not to her. He wants this encounter to be over. The entire ordeal is already taxing his limited patience, his fuse burning dangerously low. Instead of her words he focuses on the color of her lips painted red to contrast with the paleness of her skin, the lightness of her eyes. 

_'How much longer?'_ He thinks. 

Like a godsend JJ emerges from behind a door, the sought after grand prize in an overall lackluster showcase. His steps are brisk, quick like the way he moves on the ice. Seung Gil can't manage a look away. 

"Bella~" Her name sounds like a song coming from his lips.

Seung Gil wonders if he sings to her in the mornings. If his voice carries in the enclosed space of their bedroom, if they live together in the off season like the married couple they would soon become. It pains him to think that with the changing of seasons JJ will forever be bound to the woman sitting beside him. 

It's not that Isabella is unremarkable; she is the ideal candidate for all that JJ could ever want, ever need. 

Seung Gil feels himself start to turn inwards, beginning first with his thoughts. They're bitter, unfair comparisons of himself to Isabella. How she could give him everything: closeness, companionship, children if he wanted. How he could give him little aside from love across so many continents and handful of chances at actual, physical intimacy. 

He disguises the ache in his chest with a sip of his cold coffee, let's the strength of the brew distract him from the arm that's around her shoulder and the blueness of JJ's eyes trying, with difficulty, to stare into the darkness of his. 

"Would you like to join us for dinner today?" JJ asks. 

The question floats awkwardly between them until Seung Gil forces himself out of his daze, swallows more of the bitterness down. 

"I'm busy," he says curtly and the sharpness of his tongue makes JJ's brows knit together.

-

It's nightfall by the time their pleasantries have exhausted themselves. They go through the motions of paying their respective bills, saying their goodbyes with some distance between them. 

Seung Gil turns in the direction of his hotel with a sigh that precedes a throbbing headache. Halfway through his journey his phone buzzes in his pocket, he knows without looking who it is. 

'Can I see you later?' The screen displays. 

'No,' he wants to respond but his fingers reveal his true intentions.

'This is the last time,' he stares at the words, ignores his pride and presses send. 

Moments later, another text. 

'It's always the last time with you, isn't it?'

Seung Gil laughs but the tightening in his chest is enough to bring him to his knees; stubbornness is what insists on keeping him upright. 

'Soon it will be fall,' he replies, then pockets his phone for the remainder of his walk. 

JJ doesn't volley a response until later that evening when he's seconds from knocking on his door. 

'Here.' It reads, succinctly. 

-

They always meet like this, in pockets of time that JJ has carefully crafted to avoid suspicion. Somewhere in another room Isabella is none the wiser of her fiancé's infidelities. Seung Gil feels a sense of smugness at the thought until he realizes that ultimately he wishes their positions were switched, cheating aside. 

"You still came," Seung Gil stares at JJ with tired eyes, tenses when he feels the familiar grip of hands at his waist through his sleep shirt. 

"You didn't outright say no," JJ smiles in a way that makes his heart jump from his chest to his throat. His hands are traveling, sliding beneath the gauzy fabric of his top to rest against his skin. The ring on his finger is cold and hard. 

"You're not even married yet, why do you insist on wearing it?" Seung Gil challenges, takes as many steps as he needs and pivots on his heel to walk further into the room, leaving JJ at the door. 

JJ, sensing his indiscretion, stares down into the empty palm of his hand at the silver band that's wrapped around his ring finger. He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the unexpected quickness of Seung Gil's demand. 

"Take it off," he says "when you're here you aren't hers."

The ring clatters noisily against the small, wooden table by the entryway. 

-

Clothing lays strewn across the room. With each article shed Seung Gil feels the callousness of his facade transform into vulnerability; weakness is unbecoming, a character flaw he chooses to tuck away but in JJ's presence his efforts always unravel. He hates it. 

Where his disposition is to deny he still feels himself falter and acquiesce. Feels himself give in to the press of palms against his chest that send him flat against the mattress, staring skyward at JJ's figure settling above his. 

JJ takes his place between his thighs the last of their vestiges having been drawn away, leaving them both naked and aroused. 

"Get on with it," Seung Gil forces the words past the barrier of his lips, follows the touches of his own fingertips with his eyes as they traverse down the center of JJ's chest ceasing above the rapid beating of his heart. 

"Not even a little tenderness after all this time?" JJ returns in question; in spite of this he leans in to kiss Seung Gil anyways. 

Somewhere in the background Seung Gil is privy to the sound of a bottle being uncapped. Soon enough he feels the wetness of a finger poised at his entrance and widens the breadth of his legs in encouragement. 

The heady quality of their kiss makes up for the burn that comes from JJ opening him up. The intrusion isn't completely unpleasant, drawing quiet moans that get lost between the slick ministrations of their tongues. Seung Gil furrows his brows, clutches with quaking hands at JJ's biceps. Soon it isn't one but two fingers inside of him, three because JJ is proportionate everywhere to his size. 

"Ah.." Seung Gil's vision glazes over. Impatience wracks his body, makes him move desperately into the shallow thrusts of JJ's wrist. 

"You want it?" 

Seung Gil nods numbly, meets JJ's eyes with an undeniable hunger, an unmistakable need. 

JJ, wordless for once, chooses to rub the remnants of wetness along the stiff shaft of his cock. He aligns the head to where their bodies will soon be joined, uses his hands to press Seung Gil's knees closer to his chest and pushes in. 

The pain is secondary to the pleasure. Seung Gil rises onto his forearms and chases JJ's open mouth with his own, kissing him in a way that's less calculated and more honest. JJ's thrusts are firm, remarkably deep. The bed squeaks in protest but Seung Gil remains wanting, months without so much as whisper of a touch culminating to this very moment. 

"Seung Gil," JJ gasps. Sweat beads at his brow, dampness weighing strands of hair to stick against the sides of his face and neck. "I'm yours, I'm yours."

The words are everything to him, striking a place deep inside that makes him shut his eyes to steel himself. In another world, at another time, perhaps, Seung Gil would be the person JJ would come home to. They'd wake in each other's arms, stare hopelessly into one another's eyes, marry in the spring time, a new beginning to go with the flourishing season. 

Tenderness finds its place in their union. Seung Gil wipes the sweat from JJ's brow and kisses the spot between them, holds his face endearingly in his hands and forces their gazes together. The rhythm continues, their slick bodies frictionless. Seung Gil's cock lays heavy between their frames, dripping with the first hints of release. 

"I hate it when you lie to me," Seung Gil smiles, the first since their encounter at the cafe. The irony isn't lost to him but he allows himself to believe in the illusion, just this once. 

A change in angle causes heat to rapidly pool in his stomach. Seung Gil wraps his legs tight around JJ's waist, presses his heel into his strong back with a moan that fills the room. 

"Seung Gil, I can't.. I have to.." JJ struggles for purchase with his words, his chest heaving, eyes dark and wide. "...I want to come inside you."

"Then come," Seung Gil whispers, nestling his nose into the hair at the side of JJ's head. His fingers rub at the nape of his neck, other hand gripping tight to JJ's shoulder, red crescents forming where his nails sink deep into skin. 

When JJ fills him he finds his own completion, spilling between them with a breathless gasp that leaves him dizzy with satisfaction. 

-

Morning arrives with little preamble. Seung Gil knows the bed is empty before his eyes register the blank space beside him; some things never change. He sits up mildly aware of the ache in his lower back, swings his legs to let his feet touch the ground before bending down to shrug on his shirt from where it lays on the floor undisturbed from the night prior.

A cursory glance at his phone says it's 9:00AM. In two hours he's expected to meet with his manager downstairs over breakfast to enter talks about his upcoming routine. He moves lazily across the room to the bathroom en suite, flicks the light on with a hiss that forces him to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes to rub them awake. 

His reflection greets him superbly disheveled. His wavy hair is tousled, the side of his neck decorated with evidence of his wrongdoings. He touches the purplish blue marks with a fondness that even he can admit is a bit much. 

The glimmer of it forces him to pause. It sits pretty on his marriage hand, cold and hard. Seung Gil extends his arm, holds his hand out with his fingers outstretched and inspects the ring with a wry smile on his lips. 

A chime from his phone indicates a message. He makes it to the bedside table in record time, picking up the device and gazing curiously down at the screen. 

Seung Gil leans against the nightstand, reads. 

'In another life I would have fallen for you first,' It says. 'I love you. - J.'

He lays his phone face down on the counter, inhales a shuddering breath. Emotions move like serpents inside of him, coiling around each other in ways that make his chest tight, his throat parch. 

Seung Gil grabs at the device with everything he's made of, his fingers moving deftly over the keys displayed on the screen. He could say so much more yet he chooses brevity over waxing poetic. Like tearing off a bandage pulling away needed to be fast, it would hurt less this way.

'This is the last time, I love you. - S.'

Finally, he _means_ it.

**Author's Note:**

> A touch of angst to counterbalance all of the fluff I've been writing lately.  
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @spaceromantic !


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